'We didn't let it die'

Sunday

Jun 26, 2011 at 12:01 AM

The chase after a man who spent decades on the run only to be arrested last month on suspicion of killing two teenage Stockton girls reached a frustrating dead end for local detectives one day in March 1984, high in the mountains of Durango, Mexico.

Scott Smith

The chase after a man who spent decades on the run only to be arrested last month on suspicion of killing two teenage Stockton girls reached a frustrating dead end for local detectives one day in March 1984, high in the mountains of Durango, Mexico.

It wouldn't be the first time the manhunt for Alfredo Reyes Reyes ended in defeat - or the last. Time after time, Reyes remained just out of the law's reach.

That day in '84, Elbert Holman and Anthony Coultress, partners in the San Joaquin County Sheriff's Office, had ventured into the Sierra Madre, escorted by a band of heavily armed Mexican state police.

Their destination was Santiago Papasquiaro, the remote village of Reyes' birth where his parents still lived. But for the detectives to reach the village required leaving their cars behind.

The final 30 miles would have to be by burro.

"Uh-uh, we've gone as far as we can go," Holman recalled. "We have to cut it off here."

Despite such repeated setbacks, Reyes is now in custody. The FBI and Mexican federal police on May 27 caught Reyes, long suspected with another man in the Jan. 25, 1982, rape and murder of Renee Rontal and Nancy Rubia, both 13.

Neither Holman nor Coultress, who died in 2000, never returned with the fugitive in handcuffs themselves.

But the vivid memory of two sleepless days spent on his trail remains long after Holman retired and handed over the search to others.

"I've served a lot of search warrants not knowing who was on the other side of the door," Holman said. "This was the scaredest I've ever been."

Holman recalled their winding trek at night into the mountains, escorted by a group of about nine Durango state police. There were no street signs or lamps. An Indian guide pointed the way at each fork in the road.

Holman said the Durango police wore civilian clothes, and whenever they encountered the public they pulled bandannas over their faces. They ruled by fear and force, he said, taking what they needed along the way.

The two American detectives were unarmed and had no choice but to trust the local police.

"It was like being in the 1800s in the Wild West," Holman said, "except they've got automatic weapons."

Tales of their trip have since become legendary among San Joaquin County law enforcement. It was the first time detectives in the Sheriff's Office had ventured into Mexico on a case.

They set out for Santiago Papasquiaro after interviews with Reyes' relatives back in California led them to believe Reyes may have sought refuge there.

During the first night's drive, Holman recalled seeing from his seat in the back headlights of an approaching car filled with men coming down the mountain. The police swerved to cut them off for questioning.

A passenger had been shot, the driver said, and they were taking him into town. They denied having any guns.

A search of the car revealed one pistol. In response, the police commander beat and kicked the driver while calling him a dog in Spanish, Holman said. The police drove off, leaving the man lying in the road.

Holman asked one of the officers who spoke English what had just happened. The officer explained that police in Mexico weren't like their counterparts in the United States.

When the police in remote parts of Mexico needed backup, nobody would come, the officer told him.

Even back then, Durango was notorious for growing marijuana and opium poppies. Durango has been in the news this year because Mexican officials have unearthed 241 people, including a police officer, buried in mass graves. Drug gangs are to blame.

Continuing into the dense forest, Holman said he and Coultress quietly noted that one of the police vehicles in their caravan had California license plates. It had been stolen from Modesto.

"I knew I was in a non-traditional situation," Holman said. "They didn't even bother to take the plates off."

At the end of the dirt road, Holman said the Durango police advised the two detectives that going forward on burros would be futile. Holman and Coultress, obvious foreigners, would stand out, and Reyes would get word he was being pursued.

"We came back empty-handed without him," said Holman, adding that he and Coultress promised each other to keep up the pressure to find Reyes. They traced his sister's mail, hoping that a Christmas card might tip them off.

Other out-of-town trips took them to Washington state, where Reyes' family migrated to pick apples. One time, in Los Angeles, they confiscated his prized 1975 Pontiac Firebird at a relative's home, knowing he was not far ahead.

Holman suspects that Reyes, who now sits in a Tijuana jail, has probably lived in urban border towns all these years. He may have even walked across on occasion into California, Holman said.

He said he's grateful to the San Joaquin County investigators on the job today and to the FBI for picking up the search he and Coultress started. In the end, the persistence - over 29 years - paid off, Holman said.

The FBI agent who lured Reyes into a pool hall and finally made the arrest told Holman that Reyes immediately admitted that he was the man they wanted.

After each dead end, Holman said the memory of the two slain girls laying face down in the ditch urged him to try again.

"This is just the culmination of persistence, everybody keeping it active," he said. "That's what I'm most proud of, you know, we didn't let it die."